


Making Christmas Bright

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry and Ron's first Christmas as a couple isn't turning out exactly as Harry had planned it.





	Making Christmas Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: **Beta:** [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=aspectsublime)[**aspectsublime**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/aspectsublime/)  
 **A/N:** Written for the [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=harry_and_ron)[**harry_and_ron**](http://www.livejournal.com/community/harry_and_ron/) [Christmas Challenge.](http://www.livejournal.com/community/harry_and_ron/326465.html)  


* * *

_Harry,_

_Working late. Sorry. Don't wait up._

_Love, Ron_  
  
Frowning, Harry crumbled up the note and tossed it in the fireplace as Pig twittered madly around his head. This was the third night in a row that Harry had received the same message. The week before, and the week before that, it had been four nights. Harry had over a month free while the Quidditch League took a break for the holidays, but as soon as Harry started his vacation, Ron began working late.  
  
It was six days until Christmas, and he had spent all day hoping that they could buy their Christmas tree and decorate it tonight. It was the perfect night for it - it was even _snowing_. He reached in the air, snatching Pig in his hand and sunk down on the sofa. As he idly stroked Pig's feathers, visions filled his head of him and Ron, wrapped up proudly in their Gryffindor scarves, dragging their perfect Christmas tree behind them through the snow covered streets, laughing and holding hands.  
  
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten dinner yet. He really wanted curry, but it wasn't the same without Ron. Then an idea struck him. If Ron couldn't come to him, then _he_ would go to Ron.  
  
Looking forward to surprising Ron with food (his second favorite thing) and maybe a quick shag (Ron’s favorite thing, period), Harry picked up food at the takeaway restaurant on the closest corner and walked the ten blocks to the Ministry in under thirty minutes - a decent feat, considering the slippery sidewalks.  
  
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."  
  
Harry made an impatient rolling motion with his hand as the breezy witch's voice filled the telephone box.  
  
"Harry Potter. I'm here to see Ronald Weasley in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."  
  
"Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes. Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his badge from the coin slot and waited for the box to begin the plunge downwards towards the Ministry.  
  
Harry hummed _Jingle Bells_ as the floor dropped, delivering him to a quiet Atrium.  
  
The watchwizard on duty looked up from his book when Harry's footsteps filled the room.  
  
"Hi, Eric," Harry greeted warmly, pulling out his wand from the pocket of his cloak.  
  
"Ron forget something?" Eric asked.  
  
Harry pulled his wand back before Eric could take it. "Huh?"  
  
"Ron. He rushed out of here in an awful hurry a few hours ago."  
  
"Ron's not here?"  
  
"No," Eric responded. "Come to think of it, Ron's been hightailing it out of here almost every night the past few weeks." Eric stopped and with a grin winked up at Harry. "I reckon he has something exciting to rush home to."  
  
"Er, yeah," Harry said awkwardly. "Is Hermione Granger still here?  
  
"Now, that one – that one works late every night," he remarked, shaking his head disapprovingly. "She'll never catch a man that way."  
  
"I'll visit her then," Harry mumbled, handing the wizard his wand.  
  
As Harry waited for Eric to perform the standard security procedures, he looked around the empty Atrium, waiting for Ron to suddenly emerge and tell him that he had seen him coming and this was all a joke.  
  
He took the lift to level five and sprinted down the hallway to Hermione's office in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione screeched when he burst in the door without knocking first. "You scared the wits out of me!"  
  
Normally, Harry would have joked that Hermione had wit to spare, and more besides, but he wasn’t in a very humorous mood.  
  
"Sorry. Have you seen Ron?" he asked hurriedly.  
  
"Not since this afternoon at lunch. Why? What's wrong?" she said nervously, pushing her chair away from the desk and standing.  
  
"I – He – I don't know," Harry said desperately. "He owled me and said that he's working late, but the guard said that he left the building hours ago."  
  
Hermione's face relaxed as she sat back down. "Oh, well, if you heard from him than he must be fine."  
  
"But why did he say that he was working late?"  
  
Hermione grinned. "He's probably shopping for a gift for you. That's all."  
  
"I don't think so," Harry said, shaking his head.  
  
Sliding one of the guest chairs closer to the desk, Harry sat and told her about Ron's late nights for the past three weeks.  
  
"I haven't seen him around here after hours," Hermione admitted weakly. "And there really is no reason why Magical Games would be busy at this time of year… But I'm sure it's nothing, Harry."  
  
"Ron's been lying to me!" Harry snapped, his concern turning into anger. His chest tightened with fear, cutting off air to his lungs. "You don't think that he's…" His voice trailed off into silence.  
  
"Cheating on you?" Hermione finished his thought. "No!" She shook her head so hard that her curls smacked her in the face. "No!"  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "If you don't think that, then how did you know what I was thinking?"  
  
"I know you," she said in an offhanded manner. But quickly added with more passion, " _And_ I know Ron. He wouldn't. Ever!"  
  
"Then explain what's going on? He's been coming home after midnight for weeks!"  
  
"I – I can't," she said hopelessly. "Why don't you just ask him?"  
  
"If he wanted to tell me then he wouldn't have lied to me!" Harry said stubbornly.  
  
Hermione leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, trying to reason with him. "Don't be an idiot, Harry. Talk to him! You're in a relationship with him. You are supposed to trust –"  
  
"I did – I _do_ trust him! I've trusted him with my life!" Harry shouted, his voice cracking on the last word.  
  
He ran his hands through his hair, silently telling himself that it was _Ron_ and that meant there had to be a logical explanation for this.  
  
But a treacherous voice whispered in his head - _But what if…_  
  
"Then just ask him about it! What else are you going to do – follow him from the Ministry in your invisibility cloak?"  
  
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, slapping the desk with his hand. "You're bloody brilliant! That's a great idea!"  
  
"Harry, no," Hermione said in a disapproving voice. "You're overreacting. That is _not_ a good idea!"  
  
"Sure it is! This way if he's not doing anything, then he won't have to know that I didn't trust him."  
  
"And if he is?" Hermione asked forlornly.  
  
Harry's heart stopped and his stomach dropped. "He's not. I'm sure there is some logical reason for this and everything will be just fine."  
  
"Then why do it?" she wryly pointed out.  
  
Harry ignored the question and the scowl that accompanied it. He realized he was still holding the curry. Standing, he thrust it at her. "Here. Don't want this to go to waste."  
  
"Don't go," she said pleadingly. "Stay and eat this with me."  
  
"It's okay, Hermione. I'm tired anyway. I'll see you soon."  
  
The journey home took longer than usual because he dreaded going back to an empty flat and waiting for Ron while wondering what Ron was doing. Harry walked slowly, formulating his plan to follow Ron the next time that he claimed to be working late. It would be easy. The scary part was actually finding out what Ron was up to.  
  
Harry's sleep was restless and he heard Ron floo in close to one in the morning. He rolled over, so that his back was to the door, and slowed his breathing, pretending to be asleep. Once Ron was settled in bed, Harry found his anger wavering, and his doubts of Ron's fidelity flew away when Ron's arm wrapped around him, and he pressed his warm body flush against his back.  
  
Ron squeezed Harry gently and made one final noise of contentment before his soft snores filled Harry's ears. Harry squirmed backwards, closer to Ron, and drifted off to sleep.  
  
Harry woke up as the sun streamed through the curtains directly onto his face. With a yawn, he opened his eyes, and the events of the day before flooded back into his brain. Jumping out of bed, he ran to the kitchen, passing the bathroom on the way and looking in there for Ron. The kitchen was empty, and Ron's teacup was in the sink. He had left for work already.  
  
The urge to crawl back into bed and stay there all day was strong, but Harry had commitments that day and feeling sorry for himself was a luxury that he couldn't indulge himself in.  
  
He met with Neville and Luna in Diagon Alley for some last minute Christmas shopping. It probably wasn't the smartest idea to go so close to Christmas. The stores were overflowing, and Harry couldn't walk more than a few meters without someone stopping him to give the-boy-who-defeated-he-who-must-not-be-n amed, and the best Seeker the Chudley Cannon's had ever seen, well wishes for the season.

Lunch with Hagrid was, not surprisingly, as interesting as always. They met in The Leaky Cauldron to exchange gifts. His heart hurt when Hagrid beamed at him, holding Fang's gift; a new dragon hide collar that Harry and Ron had found in Romania while visiting Charlie. It had been their first trip together as a couple, and it reminded Harry that this was their first Christmas together. Well, second. But since last Christmas was when they had finally expressed their feelings for one another, than technically this was supposed to be their first Christmas season as a _real_ couple. And it certainly wasn't turning out at all how Harry had imagined it.

Harry returned to their flat with his gifts from his friends. Neville and Luna had bought him a pair of pajamas with golden snitches all over them. Hagrid had given him a new cage for Hedwig and one of the longest scarves that he had ever seen, hand knitted by Gwarp.

"Molly taught him ter do it!" Hagrid had beamed proudly. "Took to it righ' away! Keeps 'em calm."

At half to four, Pig pecked at the window and Harry grudgingly let him. The note read the same as the others, and Harry went to the wardrobe to retrieve his invisibility cloak.

The trip to the Ministry was vastly different than the night before. He no longer felt elated at the prospect of seeing Ron. Instead, his feet felt as heavy as his heart, and by the time he reached his destination, he felt tired and weak.

It was shocking and disconcerting at how easy it was to slip into his invisibility cloak in the telephone box and step into the Atrium without anyone noticing. Moving around without bumping into anyone at the busiest time of day was quite the opposite. The wizards and witches who knocked shoulders with him seemed flustered at the occurrence, but didn't say anything, making Harry wonder if they needed better security.

Using a well-designed tactic that he had planned the night before (wouldn't Hermione be proud), he placed himself near the outgoing fireplaces, hoping that he could get close enough to hear Ron call out his destination. He stared at the set of golden gates behind the security desk, waiting for Ron to walk through them. It didn't take long for Harry to spot the mop of red hair, standing out a head above the crowd. Harry quickly placed himself strategically next to the gilded fireplace with the shortest line. However, Ron didn't head for the fireplaces. Instead, he walked directly towards the visitor's exit.

Harry panicked. He could never fit in the lift without bumping into Ron. He would have to wait until the lift was empty and hope that once on the surface he would be able to find him.

Ron’s trip up to the surface seemed to take forever, and Harry muttered pleas under his breath that no one else wanted to use it. If that happened, he would have to take off the cloak and push his way past them.

Luck was on his side; no one came and Harry rushed into the lift. Harry hoped it was a sign that things were going to work out just fine.

Once on the street, he frantically searched the street for Ron, getting a brief glance of him at the end of the block as he turned the corner. Harry skipped right over a jog and went directly to a sprint, until he caught up to Ron.

Harry followed, hanging about ten paces behind as Ron walked briskly through the streets. After a few blocks, Harry's luck and the weather turned. It started as a drizzle, but after a few minutes, it turned into a steady, heavy rain. Ron pulled an umbrella out of his briefcase, but even if Harry had one, it would've been impossible to use. Muggles would surely notice an umbrella that appeared to be floating of it's own accord down the streets of London.

Harry lost count of how many blocks they traveled or how many corners they turned. He was becoming increasingly more agitated as the rain soaked through the invisibility cloak, his jumper, his jeans, and even his socks.

As they turned onto Kirby Street, Ron checked his watch and picked up his pace.

"Ron!"

The shout came from behind them, and Harry swung around. A petite, attractive blonde woman about their age was shouting and waving. She brushed past him and approached Ron.

Harry watched as she gave Ron an affectionate greeting that included a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

_'A woman! Ron's cheating on me with a woman!'_ And Harry suspected, since he had never seen her before, that she was also a Muggle.

Ron wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her underneath his umbrella, and they started off down the street.

Rooted to the spot in shock, it took a few moments for him to clear his thoughts and rush down the street to catch up with the pair. There were no thoughts in his head. He wasn't trying to make sense of the situation or speculate on how Ron met this woman. There was nothing but blinding hot, raging jealousy coursing through him.

As they approached the corner of Greville Street, it became more crowded with Muggles. Harry stepped into the shadows and removed his cloak, never taking his eyes off Ron. Ron and the woman were heading for the brick red door of a tavern. Harry glanced up at the name, _The Bleeding Heart Tavern_ , and let out a half-laugh at the irony of it.

He hurried across the street and just as Ron opened the door for his _friend_ to walk through, Harry called out to him.

Ron stiffened and froze. The girl, however, turned around, and looked curiously at Harry.

"Ron!" Harry yelled again, standing directly behind him.

He heard Ron utter _damn_ , before he turned around, wearing a fake smile.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" he asked, a nervous tint in his voice.

"Fuck you!" Harry yelled. "You're a lying, foul git!"

The girl and a dozen Muggles were staring at them, watching intently, waiting for the scene to unfold.

"Harry," Ron whispered. "Have you gone around the twist?"

He knew he must look completely mental – soaked from the rain, hair sticking straight up, eyes wild, and screaming like a lunatic. But Ron, of all people, had no right to question his sanity!

"Me! Don't you dare! You're the bastard who is cheating on me!"

"Harry," Ron said in a begging tone. "Let me –"

"Don't bother! And don't bother coming home either!"

Harry shot the bemused woman an accusing look before turning and jogging back down Kirby Street. He heard footsteps behind him and ran faster. The first alley he saw, he ducked into, and Apparated back to their flat.

The combination of Apparating, which he never really got used to, and the adrenaline rushing through his veins made Harry wobbly on his feet. He collapsed on his knees in the middle of the living room, gasping to catch his breath.

The door to the flat next door slammed, waking Harry from his trance. Ron would most likely show up any minute, and Harry didn't want to see him. Not now. Not ever. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he jumped into the fireplace and shouted out, "Hermione's!"

Hermione was less than pleased to see him. After a lengthy speech about his foolishness, and more pleading with him to stop being stubborn and talk to Ron, she agreed to go to his flat and pick up some of his things.

Over an hour later, she returned without his things and an angry look on her face.

"Was Ron there?" asked Harry.

"Don't ask me any questions!" she snapped. "I'm not getting involved in this. If you want to talk to him, then do it yourself!"

Harry watched her back as she stormed off to her bedroom.

He started to follow her, but Pig pecking at the window interrupted him. Despite his anger, his curiosity got the better of him, and as Pig flew back into the rainy night, Harry read the first of two-dozen notes that Ron would send over the next two days. They all had the same theme – Ron begging Harry for a chance to explain.

_Harry,_

_Please let me explain. It wasn't what it looked like. I love you! Please come home._

_Ron_

By dinner on the twenty-third, poor Pig looked exhausted. Harry felt a tinge of guilt, and let Pig sleep in Hedwig's cage, sending Hedwig back to Ron.

On the twenty-fourth, the notes stopped coming.

"What did you expect, Harry?" Hermione asked when she caught Harry looking expectantly out the window. For the first time since he showed up asking her for a place to stay, her face softened, and she reached her hand out to clasp his forearm. "I understand that you feel betrayed. But I can't believe that Ron would intentionally do anything to hurt you."

"Didn't you talk to him the night that you went to the flat?" Harry asked, confused.

She shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me. He said that he wanted to explain it to you first."

Hedwig finally showed up on Christmas morning as Hermione was pouring Harry a cup of tea. She let her in through the window, and Harry immediately spotted the telltale red envelope that Hedwig was carrying.

Harry held the Howler in his hand, shooting Hermione a glaring look when she laughed.

"I'll leave you two alone," she joked, waving her finger between him and the now smoking message.

The bathroom door closed, and the sound of running water died out her laughter.

Reluctantly, Harry ripped it open, immediately Ron's voice boomed through the flat, and Harry suspected throughout the entire building.

'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, HARRY POTTER! YOU – YOU SHOULD KNOW ME BETTER THAN THIS! YOU WON'T EVEN GIVE ME A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN! YOU JUST RUN AWAY! YOU'VE NEVER RAN AWAY FROM ANYTHING IN YOUR LIFE, BUT YOU'RE GOING TO RUN AWAY FROM THE BEST THING EITHER OF US HAS EVER HAD BECAUSE OF YOUR BLOODY PRIDE! MAYBE IT'S ME WHO DOESN'T KNOW YOU AS WELL AS I THOUGHT I DID!'

Before the envelope had turned to ash, Harry Apparated, still in his pajamas, right into the middle of his flat and almost knocked over the biggest Christmas tree that he had ever seen. He thought that he had landed in the wrong flat. He was about to disappear when Ron suddenly appeared.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"You have a lot of nerve!" Harry started right in. "Sending _me_ a Howler after what _you_ did!"

"Nerve! Well, I'm glad one of us has some!"

Harry crossed his arms, mimicking Ron's stance. "And what does that mean?"

"I never took you for a coward," Ron answered dryly.

"C-c-coward," Harry stammered in shock.

"Yeah," said Ron, nodding his head. "Coward. I wasn't the one who ran away!"

"I wasn't the one who lied!"

Ron blushed slightly. "I didn't lie," he said softly.

"You're lying again!"

"I'm not!" Ron shouted, stamping his foot dramatically on the floor. "I _was_ working late."

"Is that what you call shagging blonde, Muggle _women_?"

Harry couldn't believe it, but Ron actually started to laugh. "You're barking! I'm **not** shagging a Muggle or a woman or anyone but _you_!"

Harry glared at him. "Oh, it's funny, is it?"

"Harry, please, sit down," Ron said calmly. "I'm sorry that's what you thought. Let me explain."

"I'm fine standing," Harry said crossly. "Thank you."

Ron sighed. "Fine. I didn't lie to you. I just sort of left something out."

"That you're shagging women?" scoffed Harry.

"No! That woman you saw me with – I work with her. She's a waitress at The Bleeding Heart."

"She works at The Ministry?"

"No, I worked with her at the restaurant. We were waiting tables together. Or at least I was until that night you saw me."

Harry stared at Ron, wanting to believe him, but it didn't make any sense.

"Why would you work at some Muggle restaurant?" asked Harry doubtfully.

"Sit down, please," said Ron, motioning to the couch.

Harry staggered backwards. The sofa hit the back of his knees, and he fell onto the cushions.

Ron didn't say anything until Harry looked up and their eyes met. With a pleading look in his eyes, Ron asked, "Are you going to let me explain?"

Diverting his eyes, Harry whispered, "Yes."

Taking the seat next to him, Ron started to talk very fast as if he was afraid Harry would run off again. "I started working there a few months ago. I only worked the nights that you were off at a match. Ethan over in Transportation told me about the job. The woman that you saw me with is his sister, Patty. She's a Muggle. He's the only wizard in the family. He said I could make a lot of money in a hurry."

"But I don't understand," Harry said. "Why?"

"For you," answered Ron shyly.

"Me? I still don't understand!"

"I wanted to make this Christmas special for _you_. I wanted to buy you loads of presents and the best tree you've ever seen! I wanted to make Christmas happy and bright. Because you never had anything nice growing up. That pig of a cousin got everything! And – you know I love my job – but it doesn't pay much. This waiter thing was brilliant!" He stopped and scratched his chin. "Well, once I started to understand the Muggles. Mostly, it was easy. I took their orders and brought them their food and they left me money! And with the conversion rate from pounds to Galleons, I made a fortune!"

"You did this all just to buy me a gifts?" Harry asked, disbelieving that the resolution to this situation was so simple.

"Yeah!" Ron responded eagerly, jumping up and going to the Christmas tree.

He picked up a long, wrapped box and presented it to Harry proudly, placing it across his lap.

Harry ran his hand along the side of the box. "Ron… I…"

"Open it!"

Harry unwrapped the box as Ron hovered over him. A loud gasped escaped Harry's throat when he lifted the lid and saw what was waiting for him inside.

"Ron… Ron, this is a Firebolt3! But this isn't possible." Harry looked dumbfounded at the broomstick in his hand. "They only just released the Firebolt2!"

"Ah, the Firebolt2's nothing special!" Ron said with a dismissive wave of his hand. " _This_ here is a masterpiece! 305 kilometers per hour! 305, Harry! There are only going to be a hundred of these made. It's a special edition. And you got the first one _and_ the only one to be handmade by the designer himself. All the rest will be made by apprentices."

"You…" was all that Harry could manage to get through his closed throat.

"Harry," Ron began, reaching out to clasp Harry's hand. "You deserve the best. I want to make you happy."

"You git!" Harry said crossly, wrenching his hand away.

"What?"

"Git! You! You're thick!" Harry yelled, poking his forehead with his index finger. "This –" He waved his hand over the new broom. "- doesn't make me happy! _You_ make me happy! Being with you makes me happy. I was miserable when you were working late. And then I thought you were cheating on me and it hurt and…"

Ron, looking dejected, put his face in his hands. "I didn't mean to… I only wanted to…"

"Ron…" Harry tugged gently on Ron's hair until Ron looked up at him. And Harry realized how tired Ron looked – how tired he had looked all month. "Don't you understand? A happy holiday would've been you and me here - _together_ , drinking hot cocoa, decorating our first tree." Harry grinned wickedly. "Sucking and fucking each other in front of the fire until we are both too weak to go to bed, so we sleep on the floor and wake up and start all over again. Not you, working yourself sick or me here worrying myself sick that I was losing you."

"I can't believe that you thought… How could you think _that_?"

"I…" Harry rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs. "I've been happy - really happy," he said in a small voice. "I reckoned that this was the bad thing that always happens… When I'm happy."

"Harry…" Ron said soothingly, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him tightly to his chest. "Nothing bad is going to happen to us. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. You know I have that problem! I didn't want to hurt you. I only wanted to make this Christmas special… because you… you're _special_."

"Git," Harry mumbled into Ron's neck.

Ron crooked a finger under Harry's chin and lifted his face. "Don't ever think that I would leave you - _ever_! I'm a git, but I'm _your_ git, and you're stuck with me!"

Cupping Ron's jaw in his hands, Harry traced Ron's lips with a thumb, memorizing the love that was revealed in Ron's face.

"But," Ron began, reaching out to hold Harry's wrists. "Do you like it?"

"It's gorgeous," Harry responded, never taking his eyes off Ron's face.

Ron blushed. "I meant the broom."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "It's okay," he said dispassionately. But he couldn't stop the small smile breaking through his attempt to look casual. "Are you joking? It's bloody fantastic!"

Ron glanced over at the Christmas tree. "There's more. Not as good as the Firebolt3... But… I think I'd rather unwrap my present first!"

"Ron, I didn't have time… I left them here and –"

Suddenly, Ron lifted a surprised Harry off the couch and planted him flat on his back on the floor in front of the fire.

Straddling Harry, Ron explained, "I was talking about this present."

"Oh…"

Harry could feel their erections growing against each other as Ron removed his glasses and began to unbutton his pajama top.

Placing his hand on the back of Ron's neck, Harry pulled him down into a kiss that worked them both into a frenzied state.

Ron's lips were warm and wet against his cool skin as they trailed a line from his lips to his ear.

"God… Fuck! Ron, I… can't wait. Fuck foreplay."

Ron simply grunted before he flipped Harry over and ripped off his remaining clothes.

Slowing things down for a moment, Ron ran his hands down the curves of Harry's back, over his buttocks, and down the back of his thighs.

"You're right, Harry," Ron said throatily. "I am a fucking git."

The cool, slick feeling of lubrication filled him from Ron's whispered spell. One finger entered him, and he slowly and deliberately ground his stiff cock against the soft rug underneath him.

Moments after the second finger joined the first, Harry cried out, "Can't wait. It's okay, now, Ron… please!"

Not even bothering to completely undress himself, Ron pushed his trousers down enough to expose his cock, gripped Harry's hips, and yanked him up on all fours, swiftly entering him as Harry emitted a deep moan. Gripping Harry's shoulder with one hand, the other resting on the contours of Harry's hips, Ron slammed into Harry with deep long strokes, pulling his cock back until the head was just about to slip out and then driving back in.

Knowing that he wasn't going to last very long, Harry kept his palms flat on the floor, ignoring his aching cock that was bobbing in time to Ron's thrusts. The fear that had enveloped him for days lifted, and he allowed himself to get lost in the feelings of pleasure and the sounds of their passion.

Ron stilled. "Fuck… Merlin!" he gasped. "You… feel so good. I… Not - not gonna last…"

"Me neither," Harry panted.

Pushing back, he buried Ron as deep into him as he could. Harry looked over his shoulder and holding Ron's gaze, he began to rock back and forth, clenching his muscles on Ron's cock while trying to hold back his own impending orgasm.

"Harry! Oh, Fuck… don't stop! Fuckfuckfuck! Coming!"

Ron's body trembled and his face contorted and Harry didn't stop until he felt come dripping out of him and Ron fell back onto his haunches, looking euphoric.

Rolling over on his back, Harry pulled on his cock as his other hand cupped his balls.

Ron growled and grabbed Harry's wrist pinning them to the ground. "That's my present," he said forcefully.

Without using his hands, he engulfed Harry's cock into this mouth. And it was scorching hot and wet and Harry screeched, arching his hips, trying to drive himself deeper into the blissful sensation.

It only took a few seconds for Harry's orgasm to roll over and out of him, blurring his vision and making him moan Ron's name over and over again until the last of his come spurted into Ron's welcoming mouth.

Ron crawled up next to Harry and nuzzled his face into his neck. Harry put both arms around him and squeezed with what little strength he had left.

"Is that what you had in mind?" asked Ron in between kisses he was planting on Harry's neck.

"Yes," Harry laughed. In a more serious tone, he apologized. "Ron, I'm so sorry. I should've trusted you! I overreacted."

"S'kay," Ron said through a yawn. "S'ry."

Harry reached over and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. Once they were settled, it didn't take long for Ron to fall asleep with his head on Harry's chest, snuggled tightly against him.

Putting on his glasses while trying not to wake Ron, Harry looked around the flat. There were two stockings hanging from the mantel, a fully decorated Christmas tree with dozens of wrapped presents underneath, and sparkling, brightly colored lights strung from the ceiling. It was exactly how he had envisioned decorating it. Tears sprung to his eyes, and he blinked furiously to hold them back. He looked down and brushed the fringe from Ron's forehead so that he could see him better.

"You did all this for me even though I was acting like a jealous wanker." he said quietly. Ron stirred but didn't wake. "All of the best brooms in the world couldn't replace you." Harry kissed the mop of red hair ticking his chin. " _You_ make my Christmas bright."  



End file.
